The Brightest Sun

Chapter 34

He winced slightly, easing the tight grip Maia had on his hair. She looked upset, pouting fiercely even as he curled an arm around her.

“What’s wrong, little love?” he asked, smiling as she continued to pout. It was more adorable than anything else, and Harry pressed a kiss to her soft curls.

He had lamented at the sight of them, seeing the wild hair that was undoubtedly a Potter inheritance. The Potter women had laughed, those born into the family sympathizing with Maia and offering tips on how to ensure it didn’t end up looking like the hair their male relations sported.

It had been many years since there had last been a baby in the house – Aegon just past a year when they had first come – and Harry and Elia were relearning the many ways a baby could get up to no good, a magical baby at that.

Maia’s accidental magic had kicked in sometime during her sixth month, summoning the small toy that had been charmed to relieve her aching gums.

“Mama,” she said, reaching for Elia.

Despite the nursery, there were some nights Maia spent in their room, and Harry scooped her in his arms as he sat up in bed, moving away from his sleeping wife.

“Mama’s tired,” he muttered, knowing Elia had spent most of the week by Maia’s bed, the little girl colicky.

“Mama,” she insisted, hand outstretched toward her mother.

“Mama needs her rest,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he ran a hand down her back, attempting to lull her to sleep.

Maia continued to pout, brightening the slightest bit as he conjured small coloured bubbles. It was the dead of the night, the rest of the family sleeping after the excitement of the past week, the ritual complete and a prefect badge arriving along with the Hogwarts letters for Teddy and Rhaenys.

He had hit a breakthrough months earlier, able to open a small portal between the ritual room in Black Manor and the Peverell home drifting in it’s own parallel universe. All he had left to do was calculate the time differences, adjusting the ritual to account for the shorter calendar used in Westeros and make certain the two time streams were as closely aligned as possible.

Easy enough, he had guessed, once more lamenting his poor choices in school.

It would take several more months combing through their timelines with Elia before he felt confident enough to attempt the changes, certain that they would work and helped by the small bit of felix felicis he had taken before completing it, thankful it hadn’t dragged him on an adventure.

Maia’s babbling forced him to raise a one-way silencing ward, singing an old lullaby in quiet tones as she giggled, her toothy smile and bright green eyes melting his heart. He was a goner, wrapped around her finger as he had been her sister and brothers.

She fell asleep against his shoulder, and Harry adjusted his grip, letting her head rest in the crook of his neck as he continued to hum, waiting until he was certain she was fast asleep.

They had decided to wait before attempting the ritual. Maia was not yet a year, younger than Aegon had been when he’d crossed dimensions, and the risks of arriving unconscious in Westeros were greater with a small babe.

Three years, Elia had decided, was the minimum age Maia had to be before they attempted to cross, refusing to go alone in case of separation.

Westeros would be a different place from when she last saw it; darker, perhaps more dangerous – certainly for their children – and grasping at any potential player in the game of thrones, she had told him. They would spend these next years preparing to face her family, to offer some aid to the country, and face the possibility that the family she loved could no longer be there.